Hello

 
By
Lady MoonHawke

 
 
playground school bell rings again…
 
          He walks through the rain-slicked streets, oblivious to the water splashing up from the puddles under his feet.  Somewhere, not far away, a school-bell rings, and for a fraction of a second, his steps falter.  It isn't so much the sound that startles him, but what it represents.  No sooner does the sound drift away than the air is filled with the sounds of happy shouting; children released from school, happy to be going home.  He hadn't realized, he thinks, that the day is still so young, that with all that's happened, young people are now flocking the streets of Tharsis City.  He hopes fervently that they will arrive home safely.  Too much blood has flowed today, and more will flow tonight.  He doesn't want any of it to be that of an innocent.
 
rain clouds come to play again…
 
          A cold drop hits his face, and from around him comes the sound of water on water.  Raining, again.  Julia loves… loved the rain.  He had been half-teasing in the cemetery; the weather had never stopped her from going whatever she set her mind on.  Let it rain, he didn't care.  It's just water, nothing that won't wipe off, nothing that requires any real effort to deal with.  Not like blood.  He's sure he can still feel her blood on his hands, despite the ingrained habit from his days with the Dragons, to clean up and leave the scene of a hit quietly, without drawing unnecessary attention.
 
has no one told you she's not breathing?
 
          He had almost waited too long before gathering her up and fleeing.  He supposes he was waiting for her to stir, to wake up and tell him it was time for them to get their asses out of there.  But she had only laid there, his still, beautiful angel.  Once free of Vicious's  bloodhounds, he had left her at a back entrance to the nearest hospital.  There was nothing to be done for her, he'd known.  But he would not leave her for Vicious to reclaim.  In death, if not in life, Spike has decided, Julia is his.
 
hello I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to… hello
 
          Spike wonders if this is normal, the almost-dialog going on somewhere in the back of his mind, or if he isn't going just the slightest bit crazy.  He wonders what difference it would make, anyway.
 
if I smile and don't believe
soon I know I'll wake from this dream
 
          He doesn't want this to be real.  What would he give, to start the day over, to find some way to save them both, to keep Jet from getting shot.  To take his chance and face the Van, even.  They had known about his rivalry with Vicious, had sent Vicious to Titan as punishment for ambushing him at the church.  He had pieced the story together from Faye after her little sojourn on Callisto, from the little Gren had said, from what he knew of Vicious already.  Maybe the Van didn't like him, but he had never planned their downfall.  Just his own.
 
don't try to fix me I'm not broken
 
          Those kinds of dreams are for fools, though.  The attempt on his own life at the bar made that clear enough.  The Van was through with Vicious, with Julia, with him.  It means they had been tracking him, though.  How long have they known where to find him?  He is supposed to be dead to them, to that life, and yet when they had wanted him dead, their hit men had easily found him.  What did that make his dream of getting away?
 
hello I'm the lie living for you so you can hide… don't cry
 
          He does not want to face what must be done just yet.  Julia and Annie must be tended, whatever happens.  Annie, who was like his mother, just as Mao was his father.  Father, mother, lover.  His circle is closing, like a snake eating its own tail.  He has only a grumpy ex-cop, a conniving female, a deranged child and a dog who hates him now.  What kind of a life is that, freaks thrown together by a cruel whim of Fate?  His life is not his own, anyway.  It has always been hers, though what he will do now, assuming he lives, he cannot fathom.  He turns his face to the sky, letting the rain wash over him, telling himself that it is only the water from the sky he feels.
 
suddenly I know I'm not sleeping…
 
          She had asked if this was all just a dream, and he had agreed.  It was a lie, and he knows it.  He can't sleep anymore, can't go through life dreaming, not waking up.  It's time now.  Time to go back.  Time for the dream to be over.  Time for him to wake up.  For them all to wake up.
 
hello I'm still here
all that's left of yesterday
 
          He is the last now, it seems.  He and Vicious.  So it will come down to the two of them.  It has never been, will never be, any other way.  One of them will, must, die.  But not just yet.  He can see the Swordfish II in the distance, near the cemetery.  He has come full-circle, then, back to where everything ends.  She will be here soon, waiting, again.  And he will go and say what needs to be said, then do what needs to be done.
 
          There is a place here he likes, under a tree, a bit away from the other markers.  It looks comfortable, like a good place.  He wonders if there is a way to reserve it, if there is time.  He can picture her marker there.
 
            "Hello…"


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